


Heart full of broken dreams

by charimiel



Series: Sterek Week June 23-29 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (posting a day early as no internet tomorrow), Based on a song, Day 5, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sterek Week, implied references to suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1851892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charimiel/pseuds/charimiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comforts Derek. <br/>Set at some time vaguely during 3a (post currents)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart full of broken dreams

**Author's Note:**

> [Based on Not Alone by Red](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_cgbDafB28)   
> 

It’s a siren that takes him, lures him in with kind words and the promise of something better. There’s nothing left for him now in Beacon Hills, nothing to hold him back, and he’s powerless against its words and its song. His family is dead, Erica and Boyd are dead (all his fault, his mind screams, and he wishes it was him gone instead) and no one in the town, not even Isaac, wants him there. Why not just go?

Something in his mind tells him that’s why she chose him, because sirens take the hopeless, those who’ve given up, the heartbroken. He fits all those categories in one way or another.

He’s halfway into the water when they find him, following the sound of the song, wading forward. He’s fully clothed, because what does it matter when he’s walking away from all he’s ever known. It’s night, so the lake must be cold, but he doesn’t feel it, can only hear the song, feel the pull of the siren luring him in.

“Derek!” someone yells from the bank, but he barely registers it, carries on walking, until there’s a scream and the siren song suddenly cuts off. He sees the creature in its true form, revealed now it no longer has its song to hide behind, and absently notices the arrow stuck through its forehead. He’s suddenly freezing cold, the water very noticeable the moment his mind clears, but all he can think is ‘no, no, why couldn’t you let me go’.

There’s splashing in the water, someone running up to him from behind, but he can’t move, frozen in place. The weight of everything is suddenly back on his shoulders, and he’s so close to breaking he thinks if he moves he’ll spilt into a thousand pieces, will shatter and fall in pieces to the lake floor and never come back up.

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, and recognises it as the same touch from after the fight in the loft, after Boyd. Stiles.

They stand there for maybe minutes, maybe hours, Derek can’t tell. Allison leaves, the one who shot the arrow, and he wants to hate her for taking away his escape, but can’t quite manage to hate anyone, when the only person to blame for everything is himself.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, fingers tightening on his shoulder, and when Derek turns his head slightly Stiles is staring at him, face so open and sad Derek flinches, steps back, shaking his head.

“Derek. Calm down.” Stiles soothes, wading forward in the water to grab onto Derek’s arm. Stiles holds on firmly, not letting go, and Derek just stares at him, so very lost.

“Come on.” Stiles says quietly, tugging at his arm. “Let’s get dry.”

Derek lets himself be dragged out of the water, no energy left in him to fight, and sits in the passenger seat of Stiles’s jeep when Stiles puts him there, staring out of the front windscreen. Stiles slides in across from him, and starts the car, glancing over at Derek, but Derek stares forward and doesn’t look at him, doesn’t acknowledge him at all.

Stiles takes him to the Stilinski house, and pulls Derek out of the car, helping him into the house. Derek doesn’t resist, lets himself be dragged along, and smells Stiles’s worry on the air.

They go upstairs, and Stiles pushes him back to sit on the edge of Stiles’s bed and goes to pull out some clothes from his drawers. Derek doesn’t watch him, just stares forward and tries not to crumple.

“Here.” Stiles says, holding out dry clothes at him, and Derek keeps on staring ahead. He hears Stiles sigh, then feels Stiles’s hand on the small of his back before he’s pushed up to his feet again. “Get changed okay.” Stiles says, pleading and kind, and Derek doesn’t acknowledge it, but when Stiles leaves the room he pulls his clothes off mechanically, pulls on Stiles’s and loses himself in the scent of them, warm and safe and familiar.

All his clothes smell like smoke and ash, from the months spent living in his old home when he’d come back to beacon hills, and the absence of the smell, forever in his nostrils reminding him of his own failures, feels like relief, like one of the ropes tied around him and holding him down is loosened, just enough for him to breathe.

Stiles comes back upstairs with a mug of what he identifies as tea, and sets it down next to the bed before pushing Derek back down onto it, forcing him move backwards so he’s sat with his head resting back on the wall, cushions behind his back.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, in a quiet voice, and Derek doesn’t reply, stares ahead and wills the heat behind his eyes to not turn into tears. Stiles stares at him for a few moments longer, before nudging Derek over so he can sit on the bed too, pressed against Derek’s side, warm and comforting.

“I wanted to go.” He whispers, after another immeasurable length of time, startling Stiles.

“With the siren?” Stiles asks, voice quiet and grounding, and Derek swallows.

“Yeah.” He says, knowing Stiles will understand what that means.

Stiles reaches around with an arm, and settles it over Derek’s shoulders before pulling Derek into him so his head is resting on Stiles’s shoulder. Derek breathes in Stiles’s scent, and turns his face into Stiles’s neck, hiding the tears that are threatening to spill over.

Stiles’s hands settle in Derek’s hair, stroking and petting in a way he should really be more embarrassed by, but it’s comforting, and he just can’t bring himself to tell him to stop.

They stay there for what feels like hours, but can’t be too long, because when Stiles takes his hands out of Derek’s hair to grab the tea and hand it to Derek, it’s still warm.

“My mum used to make us tea if we had a bad day.” Stiles says into the silence as Derek sips it, and Derek stays silent, no idea how he’d respond even if he wanted to. Stiles takes the empty mug off of him when he finishes, and pulls Derek in again to rest his head on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone, you know.” Stiles says, and Derek presses his face further into Stiles’s neck, breathes in the warm scent of home and comfort, and lets himself believe it, if only for today.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of Sterek week (we're really getting through these!)   
> Written and posted a day early since I have no way to post/time to write tomorrow  
> [these fics/drabbles are also posted on my tumblr over here! Come say hi guys (this particular one won't be posted till tomorrow as i can schedule tumblr posts!)](http://charimiel.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
